


Suppressed

by Amethyzt



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, If one thing had been different, The 100 (TV) Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyzt/pseuds/Amethyzt
Summary: What the hell has she just walked into?She’s struggling to see who’s on the receiving end of the violence, but something is telling her to find out. In between two teens, she spots a boy being tossed on the ground. He rolls downhill before coming to a stop in the mud. A dark-skinned delinquent punches him across the face.Raven sees a group throw a rope over a tree and her skin chills, and it’s no longer from the breeze.Or, the one where Raven arrives on the ground the day John Murphy is strung up for murder.
Relationships: Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Finn Collins/Raven Reyes, John Murphy/Raven Reyes
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81
Collections: If One Thing Had Been Different - A Raven/Murphy Collection





	Suppressed

The rational part of Raven’s brain tells her there’s a 57% chance she’ll burn to a crisp the second she breaks the atmosphere. But that rational part of her brain isn’t the one that got her inside the death trap in the first place.

In fact, she could probably argue she wasn’t thinking with her brain from the start. All she knows is that the one person she loves more than anything in this universe is on Earth, and that it’s her fault he was sent to the ground. So fuck the odds. If she dies, well… There wasn’t much left on the Ark to look forward to anyways.

Plus, she was doing this for more than just a chance to see Finn again. If Abby was right and the teens from the Skybox were taking off their bracelets, then the ground was survivable. Everyone could finally come home. No more lives would have to be lost, and they would never have to resort to a culling.

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to clear her head, because at the end of the day, she still needs the rational part of her brain.

“Ok. RCS valve… open,” she says to herself, tapping away at the panel. “RCS thrust pressure good.”

She looks off to the side and takes a mental picture of the endless space around her, the Earth a blue orb in front of her. It might be the last time she ever sees it from this vantage point, if all goes well. Or… “Attitude… good. Heat shield, good.” She nods to herself. “Ok.”

Raven can’t help but smile a little at the label she’s decorated the ignition lever with. Kiss Your Ass Goodbye—she thought that had been pretty clever. She grasps it, her heart hammering away in her chest.

It was now or never.

“Don’t let me blow up.”

The lever is harder to pull down than she anticipated, and a groan of effort escapes her lips as she pulls with all her strength. Events happens quicker than she can register them occurring after that. She’s definitely falling, which is good, but the drop ship is getting hotter by the micro-second, which is… not good.

Alarms are blaring and things that should not be beeping are beeping and the only choice she has is to hold on as she’s jostled from side to side. Earth becomes a blur of red hot fire in front of her.

Raven’s not a coward. She would never be in this position if she was.

But cold tendrils of terror grip her, a feeling not unlike what she felt when she found out Finn had been sent to the ground, or when he took the fall for her illegal spacewalk knowing he would be floated as soon as he turned 18. And just like in those two instances, the outcome is no longer within her control.

The drop ship becomes more unstable and Raven is jostled forward harshly. Her helmet hits the control panel, and the world goes dark.

* * *

When she comes to, the first thing she feels is her helmet being removed from her body, cold air nipping her skin immediately. It feels different though—this air doesn’t carry the same stale notes as the circulated oxygen on the Ark. It’s slightly damp, and it reminds her of the crisp scent she would catch lingering in the air near farm station, except amplified tenfold.

She faintly registers someone calling her name, and she struggles to open her eyes, her vision blurred. She blinks repeatedly, trying to bring their face into focus.

Long hair frames a heart-shaped face she knows better than her own, and suddenly she feels a fool for not being able to identify him by the way his soft hands cradle her head.

“Finn,” she says, a wave of relief and elation washing over her, despite the painful throbbing of her forehead. She lifts a hand to where it hurts, and sees her fingers come back sticky with blood. “Ouch.”

Past Finn’s shocked face, she can see a sea of green—so much green, a purer shade than she swears she’s ever seen. Yes, there were plants on the Ark, but not like this. Finn helps her to her feet, having apparently dragged her out of the drop ship. The leaves crunch underfoot as she takes it all in. Earth is more beautiful than she ever imagined. She removes the space suit, feeling the chill envelop her further without the heavy gear.

The beauty of Earth distracts her from noticing that Finn is still just watching her, the same flabbergasted look.

“You’re not gonna give me a hug?” she asks. His reaction is odd. It’s almost like… he wasn’t happy to see her? But that couldn’t be right. He was probably just in shock.

To her relief, he wraps his arms around her tightly, his hand coming up to caress the back of her neck. She plants a deep kiss on him, but it doesn’t feel like she thought it would. He hardly moves his lips against hers. She tells herself he’s just in shock.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

She laughs a little. “You know that big scrap hold, the one on K deck?”

“You built that from scrap?”

“I kind of rebuilt it. Please,” she shrugs. “Like it’s hard. It just needed a couple parts and some love.”

Love. She must have hit her head harder than she thought because Finn isn’t looking at her like he used to. It’s been too long since she saw him last. Maybe she should sit down, she’s sure that’s what…

“ _Abby,”_ she says, the urgency of why she was here hitting her all at once. “The radio. We need to make contact with the Ark.” She spins around and rushes over to the drop ship, tendrils of smoke still emitting from the old death trap.

She dives headfirst into the ship. At spotting the empty spot where the radio should be, she frantically searches for it, thinking it must have been dislodged during her crash landing. “Dammit,” she says. “It’s not here. How can it _not_ be here?”

She eyes Finn, hating the way she already considers him a subject. Maybe his shocked demeanor was hiding guilt? But why would he take the radio?

“Finn, are you alone?” she asks.

“Yeah, I was… searching for supplies,” he says, clearing his throat. He doesn’t have a backpack on. “Anyways, I saw the drop ship break the atmosphere. I tracked it and found you.”

“The radio is missing. Could someone have gotten here before you?”

His face hardens. “If they did and they left you in there,” he shakes his head in disbelief, an angry expression darkening his gaze. “Besides, who cares about a stupid radio? The Ark sent us down here to die.”

“Finn, the Ark is failing. If we don’t make contact soon and tell them the ground is survivable, 300 people are going to die.”

She sees the moment the gravity of the situation hits him, and he nods firmly. “Let’s get back to camp then. There’s no way that radio was stolen by a grounder.”

* * *

She’s not sure what she expected when Finn said he was going to take her back to camp, but the loud chants of “Float him!” coming from inside the half-finished shoddily-built wall was not it.

“Something is wrong,” Finn says, speeding up his pace and running ahead of her. She trails after him, and what they walk into is absolute pandemonium.

Everyone appears to be fighting, knives and fists out. Finn pushes her behind him, holding on tight to her hand. Over his shoulder, she can spot a familiar head of blonde hair—or as familiar as it could be after seeing one grainy digital mugshot.

Clarke. She wasn’t dead.

“Let him go!” she shouts as she is being jostled back by the crowd.

Finn releases his hold on her abruptly, and Raven crashes into a nearby teen, who pays her no mind in the chaos. Raven watches in bewilderment as Finn races to Clarke’s side, getting her out of the grip of those who held her.

The mob moves outside the camp through a section of unfinished wall, and Raven follows them.

What the hell has she just walked into?

She’s struggling to see who’s on the receiving end of the violence, but something is telling her to find out. In between two teens, she spots a boy being tossed on the ground. He rolls downhill before coming to a stop in the mud. A dark-skinned delinquent punches him across the face.

Raven sees a group throw a rope over a tree and her skin chills, and it’s no longer from the breeze.

“You can’t do this,” Clarke shouts. “Get off me!”

This is wrong. She doesn’t know what this guy did to have everyone gang up on him, has no idea of the crime he might have committed to get himself locked up in the SkyBox. But this was _not_ justice.

They’re tying the noose around his neck now and Raven knows she only has seconds to think of something to stop this.

Clarke pushes a tall man with a mop of curls, one Raven hadn’t noticed before. He’s older than the rest, Raven sees. “You can stop this,” Clarke pleads. “They’ll listen to you.”

The dark-skinned boy who punched the guy being hanged approaches them. “Bellamy! You should do it.”

Bellamy Blake. The guy who shot Chancellor Jaha, Raven realizes. He was _here?_

“I saw you in the woods with Atom,” Clarke says to Bellamy. “I know you’re not a killer.”

She should rethink that statement, Raven thinks. The crowd is chanting his name now, and Raven knows for a fact that he’s going to kick the bucket from underneath the guy in the noose. There’s a part of her that is screaming she can’t let that happen.

Bellamy takes a step forward, and Raven sees the glint of metal peeping from his waistband.

Bingo.

She rushes at him, grabbing his gun before Bellamy can react and firing it once into the air. She’s never done that before, and had no idea whether it would work or if she would hurt herself, but it manages to stop all the delinquents in their tracks.

Bellamy’s face hardens, and he holds his hand out to her. “Give me the gun.”

“Like hell, I will.”

Delinquents take a step forward to come at her, but Finn stands in front of her, holding his hand out to stop them. Clarke takes his side and again, for what Raven feels is a moot point, pleads with Bellamy.

“This isn’t who we are,” she say. “You know it’s not.”

Bellamy swallows, and Raven notices the reluctance in his set jaw. He knew it was wrong, and yet was still going through with it. The delinquents were looking to him and he was deliberately making a terrible choice.

He was a coward, Raven thinks in disgust.

The crowd starts to get restless, again urging Bellamy to kick the bucket from underneath the guy in the noose, who was pleading for his life through the gag.

“Raven what are you _doing_?” Finn whispers harshly.

“You’re pushing your luck,” Bellamy says to her. “Give the gun. Or this could get ugly.”

“Bite me,” she spits out.

Bellamy lunges for her, but a voice ringing out stops everything in motion.

“Stop it,” a child shouts, tears streaming down her face. “Murphy didn’t kill Wells. _I did.”_

The girl couldn’t have been older than 12, Raven realizes in horror. What the hell has been going on in the ground? Wells Jaha, the chancellor’s son was _dead?_

Her confession gives Clarke and Finn enough time to run to the guy in the noose, (Murphy, Raven reminds herself) and release him from his bonds. He limps past Bellamy, still standing rigid in the middle of the crowd, and spits blood at his feet.

“You’re a coward,” Murphy says, before he’s tugged away by Clarke. He shrugs her off, striding towards camp. People step to the side as he approaches, carving out a path for him. Raven feels an urge to follow him, but ignores it, knowing she has bigger issues to take care of at the moment.

It’s in that moment of distraction that Bellamy grabs the gun from her, tucking it back into pants. The delinquents don’t move, just keep staring at him until Bellamy can’t take it anymore. He orders them back to camp in a heavy bellow, full of bravado meant to hide his fear. Because he was scared, Raven could see it.

“You’re just gonna let her walk?” the dark-skinned delinquent asks incredulously.

Bellamy grabs him by his jacket. “I said, back to camp. We have a wall to build.” He releases him, and bumps Raven’s shoulder on his way back. He calls the girl, Charlotte, and he ferrets her to a nearby tent.

She feels eyes boring into her. It’s Clarke, who is eyeing her up and down in distrust. “Who are you? You’re not one of us.”

“This is Raven,” Finn jumps in. “She just came down from the Ark to deliver a message.”

Raven doesn’t miss that he forgoes calling her his girlfriend, just like she doesn’t miss the silent communication Finn and Clarke do in that second. Could he have… ? No, she’s being crazy, she assures herself. It’s only been nine days.

Pushing aside whatever confusing feelings of jealousy are stirring inside her, Raven catches Clarke up about the radio problem, as well as why it’s so critical they find it. For some reason, Clarke insists they go talk to Bellamy.

She seems to think Bellamy should be involved, and while she doesn’t trust Bellamy whatsoever, Raven isn’t going to stand in her way. After all, she has a theory and would like very much to get the chance to test it.

Bellamy is pacing inside the tent. Charlotte is crying in the corner, her knees hugging her chest. As soon as they walk in, Bellamy stomps over to Clarke, putting a finger very near her face.

“I told you we should’ve kept quiet about the knife. Now look what happened.”

“What _almost_ happened,” Finn says, lowering Bellamy’s hand away from Clarke. “We stopped the mob from hanging Murphy.”

Raven scoffs. “You mean, _I_ stopped the mob. You’re welcome. Nice to see that leadership on the ground isn’t doing any better than on the Ark, despite shooting our good ol’ Chancellor Jaha.”

Bellamy stiffens, his eyes flicking to Clarke. But he doesn’t look shocked that Raven knew his secret, only worried about how Clarke will react. The thing was, Bellamy should’ve been shocked to find out she knew his secret, since that was not information any of the delinquents would have any way of knowing.

His lack of reaction meant he knew she wasn’t one of them, and that he knew she had come from the Ark. The only way he could know that is if he had been the one to find her before Finn.

She wanted a suspect, and now she had one.

“Shut up,” he spits at her, looking at her like an annoyance rather than a threat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The damage is done though.

“That’s why you took the wristbands,” she says, a look of disgust on her face. “You needed everyone to think we were dead.”

“They sent us down here to _die_.”

“And if we don’t make contact with them, 300 innocent people will,” Raven says. “You sure your conscience can handle that? Where the hell is the radio?”

Raven almost forgets about the girl in the tent until Bellamy looks over at her. Charlotte has stopped crying, and is now looking at Bellamy in a weird mixture of awe and disbelief. Raven doesn’t know what to make of it, but something in Charlotte’s expression makes him sigh in defeat.

“I’ll take you to it, but it’s too late.”

* * *

The river. He chucked the goddamn radio into the river. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe the red-hot boiling of her blood as he rallies up a group to search. It takes them a couple hours, and just as Raven was about to chew him out for the third time, she hears someone shout from the other side of the bank that the radio has been found.

She doesn’t even care that she has to trek through shin-high cold water to get it. Once it’s in her hands, the thing is obviously waterlogged, but it’s nothing she can’t fix. All the parts look intact. She just needs time to dry out the parts, and then she’ll take it from there.

The culling isn’t going to happen until tomorrow. Time it seems, is on their side now. Just barely.

Still, she glares at Bellamy when she passes by him. From her peripheral vision, she can spot Clarke and Finn having what looks to be an intimate conversation. She stores the visual in the back of her mind for now, not having the mental capacity at the minute to try to figure out if she’s just being paranoid, or if her gut is right and something happened between them while she was still up in the Ark.

Right now, the most important thing was getting this radio back up and running. To his credit, Bellamy leads her to an empty tent and informs her he’ll let everyone know this is her workspace, and that she won’t be bothered. It’s why she finds herself calling out his name, stopping him before he can leave.

“Just so you know, you’re a lousy shot,” Raven says. “Jaha’s not dead.”

His face smoothens out in relief for a split second before he catches himself, going back to his stoic expression. He nods at her once and then he’s gone.

She’s left alone for most of the day after that. When the sky turns dark, and she’s forced to work under the dim lighting of one of the few lanterns in camp, she lets her mind wander. She thinks of Finn—how she had been the one to initiate a kiss. There’s nothing wrong with that, but shouldn’t he have wanted to hold her, kiss her, after being apart for so long? Now that the day has come, it feels lackluster.

He only ducked in the tent once to bring her dinner rations—a few strips of dried meat and some nuts and berries. He didn’t even stay to eat with her.

Raven wasn’t dumb, and she wasn’t blind. She saw the way he looked at Clarke. Once upon a time, he looked at her the same way.

She sighs, rubbing at her temples. The radio is fully dismantled before her, and now it’s just a waiting game. She’s never had the patience for them.

The tent rustles behind her, and she looks back, hoping it was her boyfriend checking in on her. To her surprise, it’s someone else entirely.

Murphy, the guy that had almost been hanged.

He looks pretty bad. No black eyes, but there are cuts on his cheekbones, and a bloody lip. Her eyes trail down to his neck, but aside from a few abrasions caused by the rope, it looks okay. It would have been a lot worse if Bellamy had kicked the bucket out from underneath him.

“Who are you?” he asks. “I’ve never seen you around camp before.”

“100 kids were sent to the ground,” she replies, figuring keeping her arrival secret would probably be best until the Ark came down. Some of the delinquents may not react favorably to finding out she is essentially, the Ark’s emissary. “You probably just never noticed me.”

“No,” he says with a slow shake of his head. “I’d notice you.”

His penetrating stare—his eyes a stormy blue—makes her uncomfortable. She wants to look away, but she can’t bring herself to.

“Well, if you’re here to thank me for saving your life,” she says, flippantly, “you’re welcome.”

He takes one step toward her, and she feels her stomach flip—not unpleasantly. She watches as he takes a seat in the stool next to her.

“Why did you do it?” he asks, his eyes skimming over the radio parts in front of her before landing on her face again. “You don’t know me. For all you knew, I was the one that killed Wells. Everyone else was convinced.”

“Because it was wrong. No one deserves to be treated like that. Even on the Ark, people have a right to a trial.”

Murphy snorts at that, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “That doesn’t mean they get a fair one.”

“No,” she agrees. “But a mob shouldn’t decide who lives or dies. Especially not on the ground, and not in this camp.”

“This camp is a ticking bomb. That little bitch got lucky she’s just a kid. No one’s going to do anything while she’s under Bellamy’s protection.” He rubs absentmindedly at his neck. Maybe he still feels the rope. “It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s not the only murderer running loose in camp.”

“If you hate it that much, why don’t you leave?”

At this, Murphy barks out a laugh. His tongue runs over his bottom lip, and Raven tries to pretend that his reaction doesn’t affect her.

“Better the devil you know, than the one you don’t,” he says. “I’ll be fine here.” He scans the radio parts in front of her again. He picks up one of the audio transformers, eyeing it with casual nonchalance before placing it back down. “You’re not one of us, are you?”

“I’m on the ground, with you, aren’t I?”

She’s deflecting his question and it’s obvious. But he puts his hands up in mock surrender, standing up. “Fine. But you should at least tell me your name.”

“Raven.”

He rolls her name on his tongue. She loves the way it sounds coming from him. She shouldn’t, but she does. She wants him to say her name again.

“You’re Murphy,” she says, and he smirks.

“That’s me.” He nods toward the radio parts. “I’ll let you get on with…whatever it is you’re up to.”

He makes to leave, but before he does, she finds herself blurting out a question that’s been nagging her since she landed.

“Hey,” she says, and he turns his head to look at her. “What do you know about Finn?”

The question catches him off-guard. “Spacewalker?” he says, and Raven cringes at the nickname. “You in love with him too?” He scoffs, shaking his head. He looks disappointed.

“… _Too?_ ”

He must see something in her expression then, because his brow furrows. “He and Clarke have been inseparable since we landed. Everyone knows.”

She knows her inquiry has only deepened his suspicion of her, but she just had to ask. She had a feeling Murphy would give her the answer Finn wouldn’t.

She feels tears prick at her eyes, but she blinks them away. Murphy hasn’t really confirmed much, but she knew Finn. He’s been avoiding her, and now she has a concrete idea of why.

“He’s not that great,” Murphy mumbles, and taking one last look at her, leaves.

The tent feels a lot emptier with him gone, even if he only spent a few minutes with her. Raven tries not to think too much into what that means, not now.

First, she has to make sure 300 people don’t die in less than 24 hours.

She’ll focus on her heart later.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for reading. This oneshot was written for a collection of Murven stories written by myself and EasilyDistractedbyFanfic where we'll be exploring our takes on how Murven would have been affected in canon if just one thing had changed. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed my version of how Raven could've stopped Murphy's hanging! Please go check out EasilyDistractedbyFanfic's story, "Exactly Where I’m Supposed To Be," and if you feel inspired, come join the party and write your own fic for the collection :) We'd love to have more writers participate. 
> 
> As always, you are all amazing ❣


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